I sat at my desk in the living room of my dorm hovering over the blank pages of my journal. Wide eyed, I starred down at them pensively. A long strand of dark blonde hair fell from my pony tail into my face. Aggressively, I swatted it away. The thought of my first college classes tomorrow had set me on edge. I thought I should write something to relieve some of my stress. With my schedule finally cleared up I had the time to. I knew dad would appreciate it if he knew I was using the journal, I just couldn’t think for the life of me what to write. I sighed. In a moment of great courage, I began to scribble down my stream of thoughts.

June 26th, 2013

I don’t really know how I should start this. I guess you could say my life is unusual… in a sense. Yes, I’m your average freshman about to start college living in an average dorm leading an average life. I’m just the same as any other 18 year old, there just one thing different about me. My name is Lydia Rose Hamilton, but you can call me Lydia. Or Lyd. Or Rose, even. Just don’t call me Hammy like my dad does. My father is Alexander Hamilton. No, not that Alexander Hamilton. But, my dad is a historian who specializes in the American Revolution and hopelessly obsessed with that Alexander Hamilton. My mother was named Rose and she died when I was born. I try not to let it bother me too much. I don’t know much else about her. Like a lot of other families, we have this special family tradition. There this journal that we call the Legend that’s been with the Hamilton family since the 1700’s… according to my dad. He’s the one that said I should add all of this information in the journal before I write anything else so it “won’t be forgotten” or something like that. It is a tradition for the Legend to be passed down to the eldest son or daughter on their 18th birthday. Every time it is passed down, it is brought to some special place by the predecessor to be rebound and the predecessor can keep their journal entries or something like that and the successor can start writing with a clean slate. That part has always been confusing to me, but I try not to ask too many questions and to just go with it. My grandfather, whom I’ve never met, gave it to my father on his 18th birthday and my father gave it to me just a few months ago on my 18th birthday. Yeah I know it’s been months and I’m only just starting to write in it. I just haven’t had anything to write about. But, with my classes starting tomorrow, I’m just… nervous. I lucked out with my room mate, Natasha. She’s cool, I guess, a little too invested in campus life but it’s not a problem to me. The best part about her in my opinion is that she keeps her side of the dorm clean, and because of that I couldn’t ask for a better roomie. But what if I’m not so lucky with my classes? What if I have a bad teacher, or even worse… a boring one? What if I don’t like being a psychology major? But I know dad would say I shouldn’t worry too much about that. Ok, what else should I say about the Legend. Oh gosh, I forgot the most important part. This journal is magical. I know that sounds completely insane, but it’s true. Whatever I write in this book comes to life, but of course there are rules. I can’t change the past or anything that has already happened. If I’m just writing about my feelings or my day like I’m doing now, nothing happens. I can’t write about something that already exists, so it’s not like I can write a better teacher if I do get a bad one. I can’t use the journal to tamper with my studies, well that’s more of my dad’s rule. Oh, and I can’t write the future. That’s the most important rule and the worse one in my book. The journal is useful nevertheless. Even things you draw can come to life. Well.. that’s really only if you’re good at drawing like my dad. I remember he would use it when I was a kid to draw me toys and costumes for Halloween. We had clothes that would never wrinkle and a kitchen that would cook food for us. I would’ve already written myself a self-functioning kitchen, but my dad advised me not to use the journal to write anything to life with a roommate around. No one outside the family knows about the Legend…

“Lydia?” My roommate’s sudden call from outside the dorm startled me and I jumped in my chair. “Lydia, I forgot my key, can you let me in?” With a deep breath, I put down my pen and got up from my seat. I opened the door and Natasha emerged sopping wet with a towel around her messy brown hair, freshly out of the shower. She looked at me up and down, her eyebrows drawn in an inquisitive expression. “Why aren’t you dressed?” Instinctively, I cocked my head to the side. “What?” I asked. She moved past me and sat down where I had been only moments before, removed her and began separating the tangles in her hair with her fingers. “There is a party at one of the fraternities tonight,” She said matter of factly, “Aren’t we going?” In one swift motion, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my joggers and checked the time. It was almost 10 p.m. “I don’t know, it’s pretty late and classes start tomorrow…” I started to say. Natasha abruptly stood up from her seat. “This is college, Lydia! We do have to worry about that, live a little”. I glanced at the Legend, then back at my roommate and bit my lip. I thought to protest but decided against it, not wanting to cause any tensions. “You can even borrow something of mine”, Natasha said a little too enthusiastically for my comfort level. “C’mon, let’s pick something out for you”. She motioned me towards the bedroom and I followed, defeated. In my mind, Natasha just got a little less cool.

To be continued…